


You Had Me at Achoo, and Other Stupid Soulmate AU's

by Prodigalsan



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crack, M/M, Soulmate AU Parody, Stupid Soulmate AU's, temporary mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-04-24 06:38:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigalsan/pseuds/Prodigalsan
Summary: “That was the least romantic shit ever. Sneezing when you meet your soulmate… who the fuck came up with somethin’ stupid like that?”“I share your sentiments, my dear. But who are we to question the fates? It could have been worse.”“Like farting?”“Ah, flatulence. The peak of romance, that is.”--Hartwin Soulmate AU's, if the Universe had a (very, very awful) sense of humor.





	1. 1-3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with these soulmate scenarios for Hartwin while teaching my class earlier. I'm a horrible teacher I'm sorry

**You Had Me at Achoo (Or, Alternatively, It's Snot that Kind of Movie):**  

**When you meet your soulmate, you start sneezing, and you don’t stop sneezing in their presence until you acknowledge that you’re each other’s soulmate.**

 

 

Of all the times Harry expected to succumb to the Sneeze, meeting the widow of his former candidate was definitely not one of them. He would have been much happier about it... if it hadn’t been so goddamn  _embarrassing_.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Unwin, but— _achoo!_ —oh, _shit_ , I deeply apologize for— _achoo, a_ ** _choo_** _!_ “ Harry covered his nose and turned away, sneezing uncontrollably into a handkerchief he had fished out of his breast pocket. He was red in the face, both from the excessive sneezing and the mortification of the event itself.

And if _that_ wasn’t the worst part: Lee’s boy was sneezing too, and he was already on the verge of tears, as he did not understand what was going on. Michelle did her best to calm down her boy and convince him that this was a day for _happy_ tears, as well as a lot of snot. 

Harry left the boy a medal, and almost tripped on the way down the stairs, as a particularly powerful sneeze sent him flying back almost three steps.

 

 

“Eggs— _achoo_!” Harry pulled out the handkerchief just in time to save himself the embarrassment of spreading his snot around in public. He approached the now twenty-two-year-old Eggsy, careful not to sneeze at him—or to be sneezed at.

“Who the— _achoo_ —fuck’re— _achoo, achyouuu?_ ” Eggsy sneezed into his arm, head bobbing up and down with every powerful sneeze. 

“A little gra-gra- _gra_ — _oh for fuck’shake_.” Harry threw his brolly on the pavement, holding out his hand towards the young man while the other covered his red nose with his handkerchief. “Can we just get this over with? This sneezing is a-a- _a_ —“

“That ain’t an a-a _-a_ —“ Eggsy’s head threw back, and they both braced themselves before—

**_“ACHOO!”_ **

 

 

“Oh my fuckin’ _God_ ,” Eggsy exclaimed fervently, rubbing his red nose as he walked side-by-side with Harry Hart, his soulmate. He looked up at the older man with teary eyes. He wanted to say the tears were from elation at reuniting with his soulmate, but, “that was the least romantic shit _ever_. Sneezing when you meet your soulmate… who the fuck came up with somethin’ stupid like that?”

“I share your sentiments, my dear.” Harry sighed, keeping his nose covered by his handkerchief. He glanced at his soulmate’s irritated nose, and had half a mind to offer to let him use his handkerchief instead—before scrunching up his nose and _oh_ , that was fucking _painful_. “But who are we to question the fates? It could have been worse.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Like farting?”

Harry smirked. “Ah, flatulence. The peak of romance, that is.”

 

 

**Foot Notes:**

**You can write to your soulmate… but only using the skin under your foot.**

 

 

When Eggsy learned in class that he could talk to his soulmate by writing on the underside of his foot, he had been tempted to take off his worn-out sneaker to give it a try. But his teacher had given him the stink-eye, as if _daring_ him to take off his shoe, so his feet were woefully covered until he reached the flat. 

He ignored his mother’s greeting and ran to his room, throwing his shoes across the room and removing his socks. He snatched a marker from his desk, turned his foot so that the soft skin underneath was facing him, and started writing.

He could barely write the “h” of “hello” properly, because he kept giggling whenever the tip of the marker touched his foot.

 

 

Harry let out a rather loud giggle during the middle of a meeting, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaping at the table as the other agents turned to stare at him. Merlin had paused his report on the recent serial murders happening in France, so the room was completely silent, save for the creaking of Harry’s chair as he slowly, carefully stood up and excused himself.

He went to the loo to take off his Oxfords and socks, and he sighed as he stared at the crude _hello_ written in green marker under his left foot. 

“Two can play it that game, you little shit,” he said rather vengefully, grabbing a normal fountain pen from his breast pocket to start writing a chiding message to his soulmate. He bit his lip as he wrote, though he had to pause every now and then because, _hee, hee_ , that _tickles_!

 

 

Eggsy rolled on his back as his soulmate’s message appeared under his foot, squealing like a piglet.

 

 

_Harry babe we’s outta milk._

 

_Eggsy, love of my life, spring of my never-ending devotion, recipient of my adoration; I can’t always take a quick trip to the loo just to check your messages. Use your phone, please, it’s just beside you._

 

_FUCK YOU HARRY THAT WAS A LONG ONE!!!!_

 

_EGGSY THAT HURT_

 

_WELL YOU HURT ME FIRST_

 

_YOU WANT TO HAVE A GO_

 

_BLAH BLAH I’M HARRY HART AND I WRITE LONG THINGS UNDER ME FOOT TO MAKE MY SOULMATE SUFFER!!!! [crude drawing of a roaring T-Rex with glasses on]_

 

_You’re in for such a spanking tonight, Eggsy Unwin-Hart._

 

_[drawing of Harry T-Rex sexily spanking Eggsy T-Rex]_

 

 

**Quarter Pounder:**

**The recipe of your soulmate’s favorite comfort food is written on your stomach.**

 

 

“Harry,” Merlin said the day after the water test. His eyes were on his clipboard, and his brows began a mini conference on his forehead. “What did you say your go-to comfort food was?”

Harry paused and took a moment to reflect on the question. “I’d say it depends on the time of day, really. Or the season. But if you mean my _ultimate_ favorite, it would be my late grandmother’s gooseberry pie. It’s a bit unconventional, as she used to add a bit of cinnamon as well as nutmeg—“

“Cinnamon,” Merlin muttered, brows becoming more intimate by the second. “ _Nutmeg_.”

“Are you all right?” Harry asked.

Merlin looked up, and for a moment they held each other’s gazes, neither one backing down as staring contests were serious business in Kingsman. Merlin held out his tablet for Harry to take, and Harry was forced to concede in the battle of wills. Ignoring Merlin’s victorious whoop, he stared at the image on the tablet, eyes steadily growing wider with each passing moment.

On the tablet was a shot of Eggsy’s toned, flawless stomach: and in his own familiar cursive was the recipe of his late grandmother’s famous gooseberry pie.

 

 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Eggsy exclaimed two years later, post V-Day and long after Harry had woken up from his gunshot-induced coma. He flailed his arms as he ran away from Harry’s topless form, barrelling into the hall outside Harry's bedroom.

“Darling, I don’t see what the big deal is,” Harry consoled, feeling a little hurt at the, albeit understandable, rejection. He looked down at the flat plane of his own stomach, the recipe for the McDonald’s quarter pounder burger written in Eggsy’s block handwriting for the world to see. “Everybody knows that food from there can’t be _all_ natural. Calm down, dear.”

“I ain’t ever gonna calm down. D’you know how many of those I’ve _eaten_ in my life, Harry?! _Do_ ya?!” Eggsy exclaimed, backing up the wall as he stared at Harry’s stomach in horror. He covered his face and sunk down to the floor, wailing. “Oh, the horror. The _horror_.”

Harry sighed and knelt beside his soulmate, patting his back when Eggsy threw himself in his arms. He waited for the sobs to lessen before pulling the young man into his lap, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

They still made love that night, which was all well and good for Harry.

 

 

A month later, McDonald’s suddenly declared bankruptcy and shut down eighty-five percent of its restaurants worldwide, and Harry watched with sadistic glee as the world fell into chaos much worse than V-Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~am i really making myself known as the crack hartwin author sigh :((~~
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> will most likely add to this if i come up with more. feel free to suggest, though! i'm prodigal-san @ tumblr :)


	2. 4-6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because everyone liked the concept, I decided to add three more. I have a few more ideas in mind, so watch out for new updates!
> 
> *** also, just because I feel the need to mention, there is (very, very) temporary mutism in this fic, as well as vague references to using BSL. I am **not** making fun of mutism, okay? ; u ; please don't hurt me.

**It Takes Two to Tango. And Breakdance.**

**Once a bonded pair realizes their shared destiny, they mark the event by breaking into their choice of dance, no matter where they are.**

When Harry was young, his nanny used to tell him stories about how finding your soulmate was like finding the right dance partner: one who could match your steps, dance to your rhythm, and hold you while you bend in the air or vice versa. It was the event of the lifetime, Nanny Gertrude used to say, and such an auspicious event should be marked with the dance of your life, with matching lights and music to go with it.

Being the closet romantic he was, Harry had always thought it was a lovely metaphor, but…

“This,” he said as he dipped Eggsy Unwin in front of Holborn Police Station; the young man’s green-blue eyes blazing with equal parts humiliation and horror. “Is not what I had in mind when I learned about soulmates.”

Eggsy squinted at Harry as he was pulled up, dancing in-step with the older gentleman. “You takin’ the piss, guv? This happens _all_ the time! Haven’t you seen the movies?”

Harry ducked his head as Eggsy spun under his guidance. “I’ll admit I always thought them to be creative, if not wildly exaggerated metaphors of the event.” It wasn’t like Harry knew of couples who went through this, after all. But then again, high society tended to ignore the concept of soulmates altogether in favor of keeping their wealth within the upper crust. 

“Yeah, well,” Eggsy stepped out of Harry’s embrace, and the seductive cellos and violins crooning in their ears turned into a mess of pounding, modern “music.” Harry’s eyes lit up in fascination as Eggsy dropped along with the bass to spin and kick on the floor. “It could be worse! We could have an audience, and—aww, fuck, wait a minute. People _are_ watching. Right, never mind.”

“Well, what’s a dance without an audience?” Harry said as his body matched his partner’s rhythm, and his legs and arms twisted and jerked in ways he had no idea were possible, given his age. He was surely going to feel _that_ in the morning. Hopefully Merlin wasn’t watching. “And—oh, that’s a marvellous spin, my boy!—if this indeed happens to everyone—“

“It does, you wanker!”

“—it would be quite unfair to the rest of the world if we somehow lucked out and had a private show.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy’s brows waggled as the music in their heads became a symphony of violins again. Eggsy spun gracefully into Harry’s embrace, his hands holding on to Harry’s arms as their hips swayed back and forth. “But you _are_ gonna gimme a private show, right? Later, that is.”

“Perhaps,” Harry promised vaguely, eyes twinkling. He thought about the Lancelot trials happening tonight, sighing because the universe had such awful timing indeed. “But let’s finish this first, shall we? I believe this show is about to reach its end.”

“Aww.” Eggsy pouted, then grinned when Harry boldly leaned in to kiss it away. They used the momentum of the dip to sway sideways… before dropping to the bass.

(When Harry brought Eggsy to HQ several hours later, he couldn’t help but avert his eyes as Merlin started laughing right in their faces.)

 

**Word Count (Or, Alternatively, It’s Only Words)**

**The first of the soulmate pair who has said exactly 7,467 words to their bonded shall lose their voice and will only regain it after their soulmate realizes their bond.**

 

Harry had been asking what pattern Eggsy would like for a new suit when his voice suddenly failed him.

His eyes bulged out of their sockets, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. His mind reeled at the implications as his eyes flitted over to the young agent whose back was currently facing him.

“You was saying, Harry?” asked the young man, his _soulmate_ , frowning when he turned to face Harry. His expression changed upon seeing Harry’s face. “Oi, what’s happenin’? Seeing butterflies again, Harry?”

Harry scowled and made a few gestures with his hands: BSL. He articulated that _no_ , he _wasn’t seeing butterflies_ , and he hadn’t been for a very long time, _thank you very much_. And would Eggsy be a _dear_ and just put him out of his misery by making the realization now, _please_?

“Uh.” Eggsy stared at the gesturing. After a pause, a sheepish grin found its way to his face, and he scratched his chin as he admitted, “heh, is this some sorta spontaneous lesson, or summat? Sorry, bruv, I ain’t exactly well-versed in sign language. I know how to say “fuck you,” though. Wanna see?”

Eggsy demonstrated so, grinning proudly all the while, and Harry responded by covering his face with his palm and sighing.

 

“Your soulmate is _Eggsy_?” Merlin asked, staring at Harry’s wildly gesturing hands. He hummed and scratched his chin. “You know, you might have your work cut out for you, Arthur. Eggsy’s a bright agent on the field, but he’s a bit daft about everything else.”

 _I know_ , Harry signed, shoulders slumped. _He’s under the impression that I’m giving some sort of test. And Eggsy, bless that boy, has made it into a game._

Merlin just stood there, staring at him quietly for a few moments before howling with laughter, hands wrapped around his middle as he fell to his knees. Harry signed various expletives at him, but without Merlin looking, well, there really was no impact to what he was saying, was there?

“This is just fucking _spectacular_. I won’t be surprised if you’re stuck like that for the rest of your life. Eggsy probably won’t make the connection till you’re on your deathbed—“

Harry threw a mug at him. Even if Merlin couldn’t see his signing, there was, at least, a very good chance that he felt _that_ one.

 

Despite Merlin’s teasing, Harry knew that Eggsy would come through eventually. All Harry needed to do was place hints and tells everywhere the young man frequented, such as his office, the gym, and the garage. He even put a primer on the soulmate phenomenon in the agent’s favorite loo. Don’t ask Harry how he knew which one it was.

But a week passed, and Eggsy continued to be woefully ignorant. It made Harry want to cry into a bowl of guacamole—but he didn’t even _have_ that, which made him all the sadder. An idiot soulmate was one thing, but a lack of guacamole? That was too much. Too, too much.

“Hey, Harry,” came the voice of his soulmate, full of concern and a bit of wariness. Harry looked up and saw Eggsy squinting down at him. “Not that I’m unfamiliar with the urge to curl up into a ball and cry every now and then, but that ain’t something I see you doin’ a lot, so. What’s up?”

 _What’s_ ** _up_** _is that you’re an idiot,_ signed Harry, brows knitted together as he glared up at his bonded. _I can’t_ ** _believe_** _you haven’t figured it out yet. It’s so obvious what’s happening, what we are, and yet you’re completely unaware of it! I have half a mind to just write it out for you and be done with it, but Harry Hart will_ ** _not_** _resort to something so_ ** _unromantic_** _and—_

Eggsy halted his rant by grasping his hands. “Okay, bruv, I know you’s trying to say somethin’ with your hands, but all I’m seein’ is you flailing about. I’ll learn BSL soon, but can’t ya just, ya know, _tell_ me what’s wrong?”

Harry had a wild look in his eyes. He pulled his hands out of Eggsy’s grip and signed, briskly, _you idiot! I can’t_ ** _speak_** _! Not until you realize what we are!_

Eggsy’s eyes narrowed. “Uh, Harry.”

 _You fool! You beautiful, stupid, perfect_ **_fool_ ** _! Why haven’t you realized yet? You’re a Kingsman spy! You shouldn’t be this dimwitted with that IQ of yours! I blame your stupid obsession with Youtubers!_

“Okay, Harry—“

 _I can’t continue like this. I’m not getting any younger, and hell if I’m going to let_ **_Merlin_ ** _be right and have you realize when I’m already fucking_ **_dead_ ** _—_

“HARRY!”

“ _WHAT_?” Harry yelled. After a few beats of silence, he slapped a hand over his mouth, mortified. He looked up at Eggsy, who had an unimpressed frown on his face. “W-What—“

“Do you really think I wouldn’t know BSL, with the whole soulmate thing, an’ all? That’s like not knowing how to speak English in the fucking UK.” Eggsy shook his head at Harry, who was still gaping up at him. “The first time was just a _prank_ , Harry. Thought you realized and kept up the joke, so I was just waitin’ for you to come say it, yeah? I didn’t think you’d _actually_ assume I didn’t know. I may not have gone to them posh public schools, but I ain’t an idiot, Harry. I’m disappointed in you.”

Speechless, Harry’s jaw dropped. Eggsy sighed and turned away.

“Fine. If you’s gonna continue gaping there like a stupid fish, go ahead. I’ll be in the garage.”

“Wait!” Harry stood up and chased his irked soulmate, his unused throat scratching painfully as he cried, “ _darling, don’t leave me!_ ”

(Another week later, Merlin found himself in the middle of asking a new handler about an agent’s current mission when his voice suddenly left him. Horrified, he ducked under his desk, clutching clipboard close to his chest as the poor woman lingered by the door, confused.

Later in the day, Harry burst into his office and yelled, “karma!”, and Merlin peeked out from behind the desk, signing, _“fuck you.”_ )

 

**Come Fly With me (Or, Alternatively, You Raise Me Up)**

**After a trigger, the soulmates will start floating in the air. Yeah, that’s it.**

 

A windy whisper. “Hey, Harry.”

A flutter of cloth. “Yes, Eggsy?”

A slow exhale. “You eva’ watch the movie _UP_?”

A breezy pause. “I’ve heard of it, but I haven’t the pleasure. Why do you ask, dear boy?”

“Well, no reason,” Eggsy said as he clung tight to Harry’s arms, gulping as the pair of them slowly ascended towards the clouds. “Just thought it would be a nice movie to talk about. Like, if you didn’t cry in the first fourteen minutes, you’s an unfeeling monster, or summat.”

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with,” Harry began, pausing as he swept his hand over their joined forms floating in the pinkish, orange sky. “ _This_?”

Eggsy blew a raspberry at him, shrieking and clinging tighter when a breeze almost separated him from the older man. “N-Nah. What gave you that idea? It’s just a _really_ good movie, is all. We should watch it together when we get down.”

“You mean,” Harry said, unable to resist an opportunity to tease the younger man. “ _If_ we get down. _Ow_!”

“Don’t even joke about that, you piece of shit!” Eggsy wrapped his legs around Harry’s torso, shivering as they passed through the clouds. Harry felt a pleasant tingle up his spine. Missions involving skydiving were his favorite for a reason. “Just so we’re fucking clear: I ain’t dying in space, ya hear me? There’s a reason Eggsy Unwin never wanted to be an astronaut like the other kids in his class! All them idiots dressed up as spacemen for Halloween but _oohhhh_ , Eggsy knew better! Space is just a really big black hole, and people who go explorin’ it in rocket ships are fucking _mental_!”

“Well, space isn’t actually that bad this time of the year. I would at least  recommend visiting the moon before making any lasting judgments.”

“Harry, luv.” Eggsy looked up at Harry, face beautifully highlighted by the setting sun just behind Harry. He fluttered his eyelashes, lips curling distractingly as he enunciated, carefully, “ _fuck you_.”

When Harry and Eggsy really _did_ seem on their way to space, Harry had to ask Merlin for help getting them down, as Eggsy had started hyperventilating and squeezing the breath out of Harry’s lungs. Merlin and Roxy found them floating on a tiny cloud a few hours later, Eggsy passed out in Harry’s arms. Roxy took a photo of them before helping them get on the jet.

(Later, when Eggsy woke up in the jet, Roxy showed them the photo. “It’s like a Renaissance painting.”

“Oh, how lovely. If I were you, I’d name it _The God and His Angel_.”

“Pfft. More like _Icarus and the Sun_.”

“J-Just get us outta here, ya wankers!”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a oneshot, as the soulmate idea I came up with is too long for a drabble. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment!


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